Vicious
by DeanJensenLover
Summary: When the brothers are hunting a powerful witch, Dean gets cursed. Will Dean be able to control himself while transforming? Will Sam be able to help and protect his brother? Or will Dean lose control and hurt someone, including Sam? Rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, my lovely readers! Thanks for checking out this story! This is my second fic, so I'm pretty new at this stuff. This takes place probably around in the middle of season 2. I apologize if I have anything wrong or that is insulting to you. I truly do not want to hurt or insult anyone! And since I am new, I would love to have hints or comments on my stories, so please, please review! Your reviews seriously brighten up my day! :)_

_I hope you enjoy it! :)_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Supernatural or the Winchesters. But, man, I wish I did. The things I wish I could do with them! ;)_

* * *

**Vicious**

**Chapter 1: **The Curse

* * *

"You ready?" Dean asked his too-tall brother. They were standing outside the witch's old, creaky hideout after doing an enormous amount of research and dress-up in order to find her. Dean was exhausted, and he just wanted to gank the bitch and get the hell out of there.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Sam replied.

Dean brought his leg up and kicked the door. With a loud crack from the rotting wood, the door flew open and the Winchesters ran inside, guns raised. It was pitch black, the only thing illuminating their way was their small flashlights in the hand that wasn't occupied by their handguns. The brothers cautiously walked around, looking for anything that might be the witch.

After a few minutes of searching the first floor of the house, Dean turned to Sam and gave a clear, but quiet, whistle to get his attention. Sam responded by looking at him with questioning eyes, and Dean whispered, "We still got the basement and second floor to check. Split up. You take second floor; I got the basement."

"Okay. Be careful."

"You too."

Dean stood there and watched his little brother walk up the stairs, hoping that he won't run into the witch up there. When Sam reached the top and his figure disappeared from his sight, Dean walked towards the basement door he found when they were searching.

The door was rotting just like the front door, but it was a little smaller. Dean grabbed the wooden handle and turned, the door squeaking loudly on its hinges as he opened it slowly. He started down the dusty, spiral staircase, and when he reached the bottom, he didn't need to use his flashlight anymore.

The basement was lit up by dozens and dozens of candles spread across tables and on the floor, shaping into a large circle around a large, lone table in the center, and there were many sigils and words written on the floor and walls.

Dean slowly peered around the room. _This must be one powerful witch,_ he thought. The sigils and words were what worried him the most. Even though he couldn't recognize or understand them, his instinct told him that they were some kind of very dark magic.

Suddenly, a small noise came from his left, under the spiral staircase, and Dean spun towards it, gun raised. When it didn't appear right away, he started to inch forward.

Dean gave a high-pitched yelp and jumped when a large rat ran out from under the staircase and through his legs. "Goddamn rats. I hate those things. _Yugh!_" he said to himself as he tried to calm down his fast-beating heart.

_I should probably go tell Sammy that I found the bitch's lair, _Dean reminded himself, and he walked towards the foot of the stairs. Just as he stepped on the first creaky step, there was another sudden noise right behind him.

Before Dean could turn around this time, he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Sam walked back down the stairs to the first floor. He hadn't found diddly-squat on the second floor and he was starting to doubt they were at the right place.

As he stepped into the area where he had last seen Dean before they split up, he looked around for his brother. Sam was up on the second floor for a longer time than he really needed to, and he was expecting Dean to be waiting for him, but he was nowhere to be found. "Dean?" Sam whispered.

After waiting a few more minutes for him to come back up, and still no Dean, Sam started to get worried. He had to check on him to see if he was alright.

He had a hard time finding the basement door, but he finally found it when he opened the door and was met by the dark staircase. "Dean?" Sam asked again, slowly walking down the steps.

Halfway down the spiral stairway, Sam was able to see the scene before him. He stared in shock, unable to move, as he saw his brother lying unconscious on a large table in the middle of the room, surrounded by burning candles. And there was the witch, standing behind Dean at the table, head bowed as she chanted a spell while her hands hovering at both sides of Dean's head. She looked quite young for a witch, with long, black hair tipped with a bright crimson at the ends.

She lowered her hands and smiled down at his older brother. Only then did Sam snap out of it and react. "Stay away from him!" he yelled.

The witch's head snapped up the second she heard him yell, and she darted for the door that was to her left. Sam raised his gun and shot at her, just missing her as she ran into the other room. He jumped over the railing of the stairs and landed on the concrete floor, sprinting after the witch.

But when he got inside the room, the witch was gone. He frantically looked around, and he found a small window open at the far side of the new room. Pissed that he lost her, he started to pace in the dark room, thinking of what to do next.

_Dean, _Sam suddenly remembered, and he ran quickly back into the room where his brother lay. "Dean? Hey, Dean. Can you hear me?" Sam asked, trying to get Dean to respond. He put a hand to his neck and sighed with relief when he found a strong, steady pulse. "I'm gonna get you out of here, Dean." Sam put his arms under Dean's knees and behind his back, and he lifted his brother up off the table, up the staircase, through the house, and by the time he reached the car, Sam was exhausted.

He gently laid Dean down in the back seat and ran to the driver's side. The Impala roared as Sam turned on the engine, and he squealed the tires as he took off towards their motel, desperate to get Dean to safety.

* * *

_I hoped you like this so far and come back for more! It is 2 a.m. here in Cheeseville—as Dean put it—so I should probably get to bed, but I wanted to finish this first :) I apologize again if there are any mistakes!_

_Again, reviews make my day and motivate me to write faster, so please review! :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_OMG. I'm sorry so so SO much for the delay! I have been so busy lately! School just started and I have volleyball practice every week day with tournaments on the weekends :/ I hope I can pay y'all back with a good chapter! _

_Again, please review! They make my day and motivate me! Thanks!_

_Enjoy :)_

**Vicious**

**Chapter 2: Off**

* * *

Sam was tearing down the road towards the motel when he heard a moan erupt in the passenger seat. "Dean?"

"Ugh. What the _hell_ happened?"

Sam glanced at his brother attempting to sit up straighter rather than having his face smashed against the window. "The witch knocked you out, man. She was doing some pretty heavy magic on you when I finally found you. By the way, you feel alright?"

Dean gave him a confused look, "Yeah. Why?"

Sam gave him the look back, "Why? Dean, I just told you. That witch was doing a great deal of heavy magic on you, dude. I'm just making sure that you're okay."

"Well, I'm fine, Sammy. I feel fine. Anyway, the bitch is dead so that's another reason I'll be fine."

Sam looked at Dean with a guilty expression, "Yeah, 'bout that…"

"You better be bullshitting me on this, Sammy. You didn't kill her!?"

"No, she—"

"Why the hell not?"

"She climbed through a window before I could get a good shot off at her," Sam continued. "And anyway I wanted to make sure you were still alive, Dean."

Dean seemed to have softened a little bit after that. He sighed loudly, "Well, what do we do now?"

"We have to find the witch, obviously, and I'm guessing she'll be going back to the house since all the herbs and her equipment is still there. But in the meantime, we should figure out exactly how powerful this witch is and what all those sigils on the walls meant."

Dean's face scrunched up with disgust, "Oh, fun. More research."

Sam smiled, "Yup, your favorite thing and—"

Dean interrupted, "No, that's _your _favorite thing."

Sam just ignored him and kept talking, "—we need to rest, which is why we are going back to the motel."

"Yay, sleep. Something that turned out good tonight."

Sam parked the Impala into the parking spot right in front of the motel door. He got out and went to the trunk to grab their things. He felt like his feet were made of cement. As he closed the trunk door, he looked up to see Dean standing, with the car door still open, rubbing his temples. "You okay, Dean?"

Dean looked up, "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just have a little headache, probably when the witch knocked me out." He closed the car door and started walking towards their room door.

Sam watched his brother closely, "Yeah, probably," he said quietly, convincing himself everything was fine.

Once Dean unlocked the motel door and set his duffel on his bed, he turned around to find Sam right next to him; already inspecting him and trying to take off his clothes to get a better look.

"Dude, what the hell? Quit feeling me up!" Dean jerked away from his little brother; uncomfortable by the broken personal space.

"Dean, let me look. I have to make sure that the witch didn't do anything else to you."

"What, like slicing me open and putting magic frogs in me? Sam, I'm fine. See?" Dean lifted his shirt to reveal his smooth, muscled chest; not a scratch on it.

Sam quickly inspected his brother's chest before the shirt covered it once again. Seeing there was nothing physically wrong with Dean, his concern died down a bit. He looked at Dean's face again. He noticed there was a slight bump on the side of his head. "Man, that witch must have knocked you out good, or you're just growing a melon on the side of your head," Sam pointed to the bump.

Dean's hand reached up to touch it, but winced immediately his hand came in contact with the bump. "Damn witches," he muttered.

He didn't even notice Sam left his side until his little brother put a freezing pack of ice into his hand, making him jump at the sudden cold.

"Here. Put this on it and get some rest," Sam said, "God knows I want to get some shut eye." With that, he jumped on the bed and was snoring slightly by the time Dean undressed and did the same.

**...**

Sam awoke to the sound of whimpering. He lifted his head to look around for what was creating the sound. It stopped.

_Must be some stray dog begging for food outside, _Sam thought. He set his head down once again on the pillows, only to have the same whimpering continue. "What the hell?" he said, as he flipped on his bedside lamp. The whimpering was coming from the bed across from him.

"Dean? You okay?"

Dean was still asleep, but he was twitching and his head was turning from side to side. _Nightmare, _Sam thought again, _Probably about Dad again. _Sam slowly got up and sat at the edge of his bed, watching his brother fight through his nightmare.

Sam could see the sweat that was on Dean's forehead, and Dean's whimpering became louder. He decided he wasn't going to let his brother be tortured by the dream all night, so he reached across the bed to shake his older sibling awake. And stopped.

Dean was no longer whimpering. No, it was a lower sound, coming from deep in the back of his throat.

Dean was _growling._

Sam's hand snapped back instantly and he scrambled back onto his bed. The growl, which now stopped, sounded more animal than human.

Sam was staring at his brother wide-eyed. Dean's head rolled to face Sam in his continuing nightmare, and Sam notice the bump on the side of his head was even larger than before. Dean's head turned again, but this time to the other side; facing the motel door. Sam gasped when he saw another bump exactly the same as the other one, but on the other side of his head.

What the hell? Sam thought for the millionth time. He slowly got up again and leaned over his brother; inspecting the bump.

Suddenly, Dean twitched—hard. He curled in on himself, still asleep, his bare back facing Sam. Sam backed up onto his bed for the second time that night and gasped in horror at what he saw.

Dean's spine was _moving. _His ribs and spine were slowly sliding and cracking as if trying to reposition themselves under his skin. Sam placed a hand over his open mouth. He stared with wide eyes at the movement until Dean's bones seemed to slide and crack back to normal and remained still.

Ever so slowly, Sam reached out to his brother again, cautiously this time, and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, wake up," he said as he shook him.

Dean grunted and rolled over to look at Sam. Sleep-glazed eyes met his. "Sam?" Dean looked at the bedside clock. "Why the hell did you wake me up at 3:33 in the morning?"

* * *

_Please review :)_


End file.
